Pleasurable Pain
by Assassination
Summary: He wanted to relish in the pain once more, although the first time was an accident. His occassional cutting sessions became an obsession, and so his father sent him to a place that will 'treat' his obsession and make him 'well' once more. R
1. chapter I

_**He liked it, the pain that coursed through his veins that one time he accidentally slit his wrist. The vibrant haired boy had been chopping carrots for his little sister, and accidentally hit his wrist, since his eyes gazed up from them, a little dab soon becoming more, splashing against the vegetables he liked himself.**_

_**His little sister cried out in shock, covering her mouth with her hands, soft eyes wide in horror. He hadn't even noticed that he was losing blood until he felt a strong hand's fingers wrap around his wrist, forcing him to face his father.**_

"_**Come," he said with a stern voice, a tone he usually never used.**_

_**Nodding slowly with a quirked brow, he had followed the dark haired man into his caring room, hospital room where he treated patients, bandaging his son's slit wrist.**_

"_**Pay more attention," he sighed.**_

_**The orange haired boy nodded slowly, yet a voice inside his head only cackled at the thought of this youth ever being careful.**_

Those brown eyes opened slowly, groaning as he rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand, sitting up with a grunt. "Haven't had that dream in a long time," he sighed, looking down on his left wrist. "It's been so long..."

Yet the feeling of pain resurfaced, pleasurable pain. Shuddering, he almost moaned, feeling so good. Turning and placing his bare feet on the ground, he bit his lower lip, resisting the urge to do it again. After all those years. He didn't know what made him drift off, but the voice that came at times kept telling him he missed the pain so much, a little tiny voice in the back of his mind.

Walking down the stairs, his ears perked up, making sure no one was awake.

Reaching the kitchen, he walked over to the sharp knives' drawer, pulling it out slowly with half-lidded eyes. The lust for the pleasure to return was so overpowering and reassuring, telling him it was all right. Lifting his left hand slowly, he reached in, pulling out the sharpest one he could see, yanking it out and hovering it over his left wrist, more accurately than the mistake so long ago. Five years ago.

"And now the urge is back," he muttered, a grin slowly placing itself on his handsome lightly tanned face, "I want it so bad..."

In one swift movement, he bit his lower lip, blood oozing out of the wound and down his arm, a sick grin growing on his normally sane face. Placing it there again, he sliced, slashed, and even cut over some again, until his knees were shaking, a pool of blood almost forming below him.

_It feels so good..._ he thought, hoisting his arm up and sticking his pink tongue out, licking at the thick liquid, the bittersweet taste of metallic and salt indulging his senses, making him shudder in sick amazement. _Tastes...great..._

His eyes slowly shut, dropping the knife as he fell to the opposite side, laying in the blood as he placed the left arm out, his right hand covering the cuts, arms trembling as his grin twitched, laughing softly.

_I've never felt anything like it, feels so...awesome..._

Footsteps rushed down the stairs after the thud of his light body, lifting his head with hazy eyes to see his dark haired sister stare at him with wide eyes at the end of the stairs, mouth covered by her left hand, tears brimming her eyes as they darted from him to the kitchen knife, then to him again, repeated until the tears fell down her usually unexpressive face, falling to her knees while screaming.

"K-Karin..." he gasped out before his world went black.

XXXX

"You've gotta be kiddin' me!" an albino shouted, crossing his arms at a woman with orange hair, boobs gigantic as she nodded, placing a hand on the boy's back and pushing him into the facility. "Hell no! I ain't goin' in there! Take me back home, Rangiku, you bitch!!"

His eyes were golden and the background was a black abyss. Not normal at all, but what was more awkward was his tongue. Dark neon blue. Almost navy.

A dark Mustang pulled up after them, the white haired boy turning to see a boy with vibrant orange hair open the passenger door, stepping out with his left wrist bandaged to half of his forearm.

_Another cutter, eh?_ he thought with a smirk, black sunglasses hiding his eyes. _Seems like he's addicted t' it._

Rangiku watched the lightly tanned teenager pull a duffel bag and backpack out of the car, turning while waving to two girls and a man with dark hair, not bothering to look at them as he frowned, walking toward the place, yet stopped once he was beside the albino.

Wearing a baggy dark blue shirt that said zero-one-five, sagging black pants, dirty sneakers. A spiked wristband around his left bandaged wrist. The white haired boy on the other hand was wearing a simple shirt with a demon skull on it that said 'fuck you' underneath it that had seemed to be written by the snow white haired teenager, denim pants that were rimmed with orange, a chain hanging on the left side of his hip, black and white buckle sagging from its post. Both of his wrists bandaged.

"Hichigo, don't stare!" the woman scolded, offering a hand to the vibrant haired boy. "I'm Rangiku, this is Hichigo Shirosaki."

The snow white haired teenager shifted his black bag on his right shoulder, snarling.

The lightly tanned boy took her hand, shaking it with a nod. "Ichigo Kurosaki."

"I see..." the woman said with narrowed eyes, a firm grip on Ichigo's left hand, turning it so she could see his whole wrist, eyes slowly edging towards Hichigo's. "...you're a cutter too, aren't you?"

"Yeah, unfortunately, and that's the reason I'm here..." he said with a frown, pulling his hand away as Rangiku turned, walking away, but offered both teenaged boys a warm smile before leaving. When she disappeared, Ichigo looked at the white toned Shirosaki. "You're a cutter as well?"

"Tch, yeah," he frowned, looking up at the old place that looked like a school. "Bitch wanted t' send me here...said I had a problem."

Ichigo chuckled a little at this, walking towards the building with anger slowly raising within the bellows of his stomach. It wasn't his fault he wanted the pleasuring pain to linger around longer. It felt too good to let go and before he knew it, he was addicted.

"So...what's your story?" the albino asked, taking long strides as the orange haired Kurosaki grumbled, his brown eyes narrowing at his new home until he was 'well'.

"I accidentally cut myself five years ago while chopping some carrots for my little sister," the boy sighed, slumping his shoulders as they approached the entrance, "the pain felt so good...that a few months ago, I did it again, and continued. I was hooked, felt too good to let go. My grades slipped and my psycho father thought it would be wise to send me here, you?"

"Heh...I got tired of fightin', because everyone was afraid of me," he smirked, grasping the handle to the treatment center, pulling it open with a sickening laugh, "I wanted pain, and lots of it. So I began slittin' my wrists, so much that I was so close to dyin' from blood loss, but I'm still alive. It felt like I was in heaven, the pain made me feel alive, and felt like I was in hell because it stung like a bitch."

Both looked up to see a man with a green and white striped hat walk over, bright blond hair, and wearing a green trench, kimono underneath, and fanning himself with a paper fan.

"Ah...you must be the new guys," he piped up happily as a teenager walked up behind him, red hair and narrowed reddish-brown eyes, his long crimson mane tied behind his head in a ponytail. "This is Abarai-kun, he'll be your guide, and I must go take your registration papers to the headmaster." Both quirked their brows, yet handed him the papers and off he went, leaving the two with the frowning Abarai.

Yet both were thinking across the same lines. _Shit..._

---

Summary- He wanted to relish in the pain once more, although the first time was an accident. His occasional cutting sessions became an obsession, and so his father sent him to a place that will 'treat' his obsession and make him 'well' once more. Wrong, he only sent him there so his sisters won't see anymore horror in the blood he sheds from himself.

_**Does cutting go under horror?**_


	2. chapter II

They followed the redhead down the corridors to a room at the way end, facing the small forest beyond the facility. "This's your rooms, lights go off at eight forty-eight, we have breakfast at six, lunch at twelve forty-five, and supper at six twenty."

"Those," Hichigo grumbled, throwing his bag on the top bunk, "are some fucked up hours."

Ichigo nodded, settling his bags on the bunk that was his, turning and facing the tattooed teenager. Seeing those massive shoulders shrug, the vibrant hair colored teen closed his eyes, shaking his head, then reopening them, seeing that the white haired Shirosaki's left leg was in front of him, a loud grunt came from him as he lifted himself into his bunk.

"Any other questions...find me, or you can ask –"

"Renji!!" a blond haired boy cried, bright colored eyes yet wearing the same outfit like the others they've seen so far. The blond stopped and panted, looking up at the newcomers with wide eyes. "Oh! I-I'm sorry! I'm Izuru Kira, pleased to meet you!" He quickly bowed and stood, a sheepish smile on his child-like face.

"Ichigo Kurosaki," Ichigo complied, and then grasped the ankle to the foot that would've kicked him in the face with his right hand, pointing up with his left. "That's Hichigo Shirosaki."

"S'up?" he called as he struggled to put himself down without crashing onto the ground.

"As I said, any questions, ask me or Kira," Renji said, pointing his right index finger at the blond. One of his eyes covered by long bangs as he shut them, nodding, reopening then and turning to the redhead.

"Renji...Hisagi's acting up again...Grimmjaw said something he shouldn't have...about..." he reported, a small flush on his cheeks. "You-know-what."

"Again?!" the taller teen cried, throwing his arms up in the air, looking like this was so common that it could make anyone throw-up just knowing. "Goddamn Grimm!" he shouted, lowering his arms and turning on his heel. "I told him to knock it off with that shit!!"

Once he was out of ear range, Ichigo coughed, regaining his thoughts. "So...who's Grimmjaw?"

"He...well, he's a second year here, and as you can see...I'm also a second." Izuru explained, both newcomers scanning over his clothing. White and the number two on the shoulder parts, looking like he was dressed up to take care of a patient. "Renji's a third year, he'll be escorting you around possibly, or the others. Seconds can go around almost wherever they please, but third years have the most freedom."

"The fuck!?!" Hichigo growled, finally lifting himself up and crossing his arms over his chest. "We're gonna be babysat?!"

"I-in a sense...yes."

"Are you people outta your f-"

The lightly tanned form rose and clapped a hand atop the albino's mouth, preventing more unnecessary words to pour out of his mouth. Sighing, he nodded, yet dreaded what they were going to wear for uniforms. The blond pointed over at the same style outfit in the corner, yet the color was red.

"Those will be your uniforms," Izuru said, turning and walking away at a steady pace as the brown eyed teen slowly removed his hand from the glaring albino.

"So...we just need to become twos or threes and have freedom," the vibrant haired teen mumbled, walking over to the uniforms and pulling off his baggy blue shirt, tossing it onto his bed, grabbing the uniform top, seeing the number one on each shoulder part. "I can deal with that. The sooner I get out of here, the better."

"Tch," Hichigo growled, leaning back against the wall with a huff. "Good thing I brought one of my knives..."

Ichigo slipped on the shirt, shaking his head once it popped back out, turning his head to glare at the sunglasses wearing boy.

"Do you want to stay here forever?"

"No, but whoever said I couldn't get rid of some stress by cuttin' myself?" he cockily grinned as disgust flickered in the lightly tanned teen's eyes. "Aw...come on, Ichigo, you know you wanna do it too."

"You may be right on that," he frowned, looking down and grabbing his pants, unbuttoning them and sliding them down to reveal black boxers, "but I don't want to keep my family waiting for me to get 'better'."

"It's only human nature that some love pain,"

"Yeah, and they have a word for them, it's 'masochist'."

Hichigo leaned down, slipping his sunglasses off with his right hand, placing them on the dark gray pillow he would soon rest his head on. The sheets white and comforters a dull navy color. A sick grin plastered on his features.

"How about tonight...I show you how we...what was it? 'Masochists' party each night...I'll show you how much pain can make you feel so damn good." He added emphasis on the words 'damn' and 'good' and it made the orange haired teen's skin crawl. And he thought he had been worse off.

He was completely wrong.

Pulling on his red pants. "I don't think so,"

XXXX

They got dressed and organized their things, heading downstairs to the cafeteria, Hichigo already gaining a reputation for being a badass, easily becoming friends with most of the punks there.

Kenpachi Zaraki, Grimmjaw, Gin, Tosen, Aizen...the list went on and on.

Ichigo, however, had been rewarded with also being a punk, yet didn't pick as many fights as the albino had on their way down. He became friends with Renji, Hisagi, Kira, Hanataro, a strange boy named Kon, who didn't look any older than twelve.

The food, however, was pure shit. They served mushy things, and it made Ichigo's stomach twist into billions of knots. Picking up the plastic knife, he sneakily snuck it into his back pocket as Hichigo poked the food with his plastic spoon, exclaiming that he swore he heard it moan.

_I don't want to be here,_

Ichigo pushed the food away, resting his face against the table with a groan of disapproval.

_I want to be at home,_

Looking over at Hichigo, he swore he saw the longing he had contained within him now. Pushing the tray away as well, the albino placed his right elbow on the deep green table, placing his chin on the palm, eyes half-lidded behind his sunglasses.

"You two all right?" Renji asked, sounding concerned. He had seen plenty of newcomers, but they didn't look as depressive as these two. "Aren't you hungry?" Both shook their heads.

_But I did something stupid that wound me up here..._ both thought with deep frowns. _And now that I really think about it...I don't regret it...I just miss home._


	3. chapter III

Ichigo slowly lifted his head back up, sighing as he got out of his seat; Kon's deep red eyes gazed up with a quirked brow. "Can I have your lunch?"

"Whatever," he grumbled, pushing the tray over to the golden haired boy with his right hand, the twelve year old looking teen took it and smiled brightly, "I'm going to the dorm..."

That was directed to Hichigo, who stood as well, his chair's legs screeching on the ground. Nodding, he turned and began to walk off, yet Hisagi stood, grabbing his collar from the back, receiving a surprised yelp. Veering over his shoulder, he blinked those golden-black eyes, noticing that Renji and Ichigo were talking, a nod coming from Ichigo as both walked off towards their room.

"What the hell?! Lemme go!" he shouted, gnawing on his lower lip once the dark haired teenager frowned at him, jabbing his thumb towards the leaving forms.

"Go with them," he spoke in a cold tone, which was demanding.

"Damn bastard," the albino muttered once he ran to catch up with the walking forms.

Catching up, he panted, shoving his hands into his pockets, frowning deeply as they walked up the stairs, traveling slowly towards the newcomers' room. The redhead looked over at the white haired Shirosaki, harsh reddish-brown eyes glistening in the bright lights hanging over their heads.

"What're you guys in for?"

Both looked at him with different expressions. The young Shirosaki's was annoyed, the bright haired Kurosaki's was simply blank, eyes hazed over, reminding himself for why he was truly here.

"Cuttin'," the albino frowned, sounding like he had been poked a zillion times and he was ready to chop the owner's finger off, "but 'ey...my family's fucked up, that's a good enough reason,"

"How 'bout you?" the tattooed figure asked, turning his head to Ichigo's direction, seeing that he shoved his hands into his back pockets, fingers wrapping around the knife, pondering on whether it would be able to slice through flesh since it wasn't at all that sharp.

A few moments later, he shrugged. "Same thing...but my father brought me here to keep my sisters from seeing me go 'insane'."

He sucked in air through clenched teeth, parted pale lips, feeling that his middle finger was slightly punctured, a small droplet of blood slithering down his limb. His cheeks slightly flushed, pleasure creeping up his spine as the red haired Abarai turned his attention forward, stopping once they finally reached the two boys' room.

"I'll tell you your schedules tomorrow, and..." he spoke, tuning and walking away until he was five feet away, looking over his shoulder, "try not to do what wound you up here, otherwise you'll end up in the infirmary and even worse...where the real loonies are. These are the minors, and once you go in, you'll never come out."

Both nodded, the orange haired teen swallowing a lump in his throat as Hichigo released held air he never realized he was holding.

Walking into their room, Hichigo shut the large metal door with his foot, no window to peer through whatsoever. Walking over to his bunk, the white haired fifteen year old grabbed the ledge of his bed, yanking himself up with a huff. Swinging a leg over the ledge and hoisting himself up. It was like a regular room, closet, two boxes by the window, nametags taped on the lid. The one to the right was Ichigo's and the left was his.

The vibrant haired teen slowly sat down, reaching into his back pocket, pulling out the plastic knife. Almost purring at the thought of the pain he began to love. Yet, what he loved most was the blood he lapped up as it rose from the wounded epidermis.

Hearing the rustling below him, Hichigo slid the sunglasses off, placing them once again on the pillow, sneaking over to the right of himself, at the foot of the top bunk, lowering his head so he could see what his roommate was up to.

Seeing a plastic replica of silverware, he watched with curious eyes as the orange haired teen drowned out the world, slicing his flesh. Grinning once he saw a red, tiny, thin line of thick red blood suffice. Lowering his head, his pink tongue slid out, lapping up the blood, the sweet taste he was addicted to overriding his senses and making him moan out in pleasure in a low tone.

Hearing this made an arousing shudder bolt up the young Shirosaki's spine.

Lowering his hand and raising his head, Ichigo licked his lips, tinting them in a red, luscious, color. Deepening his lust for the taste ever more. But then he plopped himself onto his back, shutting his eyes as his left hand released the blade, cradling his right wrist to his chest.

_It's too addicting...too fascinating...  
_  
Hichigo licked his dry lips, eyeing the blood. Grinning as he lifted his head and turned, crawling to the head of the bed, picking up the black sunglasses, placing them on a ledge that was super-glued there. Placing his head on the pillow, facing the wall as a sick smirk spread across his handsome features, closing his golden-black eyes as he listened to the orange haired teen's panting.

_But we'll get caught eventually,  
_  
**_The color crimson was never a problem, the only problem was was that he adored the color of crimson, relishing in the deep red shade. Dark and yet so beautiful._**

The white haired boy smirked each and every single time he hovered the blade over his forearm, his step-mother gone off on some sort of business she never bothered to mention. Pressing it ever so harshly against his skin, slitting the cold skin, warm steaming blood oozing out as he giggled in a boyish, childish way, like he did not know that this was wrong. That he shouldn't be doing this.

All he knew was that he felt so alive when he did it.

It was occasional when he felt so dead, then became more frequent, until it became a habit.

But one night while he was cutting his flesh, his step-mother walked in with her usual cheery hello, only to be greeted by silence, then began to search until the site of a bleeding little child in the bathroom tub appeared before her eyes. Confused and shocked, seeing the blade on the ground as the pure white skin turned almost a very dull gray, death creeping ever closer.

If only she hadn't arrived.  
  
Golden-black eyes cracked open, seeing the moonlight peer through the open blinds. Lifting his head, he turned to see his roommate sitting on his box, duffel bag and backpack put away and his right elbow resting on the ledge to the window sill, barred up because of suicide-attempters that were staying in the facility.

The cut from earlier was a very dim color of peach, yet could easily pass as if he was very itchy and needed to scratch that site badly.

Almost leaping off his bunk, the snow white haired boy walked over to the orange haired figure, sitting down across from him as those brown eyes stared out the window, staring out at the starless sky.

"Have a nightmare?"

Hichigo blinked, eyes wide as they drifted towards the speaker, seeing that Ichigo was looking at him with a concerned expression, but not too concerned, just curious.

"Nah...just a memory I wanted to forget," he frowned, looking down on the ground to see the guy everyone called 'Hat-and-Clogs' walk towards his car, "She shouldn't have come home so early..." he muttered.

_But why did she?_ he thought while chewing on his upper lip. _Was it just a coincidence?_


	4. chapter IV

Both roommates opened their eyes, sitting up on their beds to see Renji standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, both seeing that he was wearing a black outfit with the number three stitched on the shoulders.

"I came to escort ya t' Yuroichi's office,"

Both groaned, slowly getting ready, yet Hichigo laid back down, staring at the ceiling with his eyes halfway lidded. _I don't wanna be here..._ he thought, slowly sitting up and crawling off his bed, grabbing the red shirt and slipping it on. _If only she hadn't arrived..._

Ichigo blinked, realizing his roommate wasn't getting ready, so he turned, looking up at the snow white locks. "Hey, Shirosaki, get up." he called in a gentle tone, watching the albino sit up with a grunt. "Come on, we need to go," He tossed the frowning form his uniform, "besides...this Yuroichi sounds really serious, like he'll kick our asses if we're late."

Hichigo easily caught the outfit, climbing down and stripping, pulling a new pair of boxers on and then the uniform, shrugging as he looked up with those oddly colored eyes, Ichigo turning and going over to the surface glued to the corner in the wall, reaching up.

Standing on the tips of his toes, his fingers brushed against the sunglasses, frowning as he wrapped his fingers around them, sensing that Hichigo was behind him, a quirked brow once he turned around, handing him the coverage for his eyes.

"I wasn't gonna steal them, geez," Ichigo rolled his eyes. Hichigo shrugged, taking them and sliding them onto his face with grace, grinning at Ichigo and reaching a hand out.

The vibrant haired teen grabbed onto it, both gripping each other's hands, letting them uncoil so they brushed, and a smile slowly forming on Ichigo's face.

"Thanks," he said after the white haired teenager turned, walking out the door, stopping halfway out when the young Kurosaki spoke, turning and looking at him with a confused look.

"For what?"

"For...I guess..." Ichigo swallowed the lump that began to swell in his throat. "Being my friend?"

Hichigo's golden-black eyes widened painfully, then grinned, "Not a big deal, besides...you're actually t' only real one." He brought his shoulders up, stuffing his hands in his pockets, walking off in the direction Renji was in, a guy with teal hair walking up to both forms with a smug smirk. "What t' hell do ya want, Grimm?"

"Jesus, ya always greet friends like tha'?" he chuckled, crossing his arms, his uniform's sleeves rolled up as he leaned back, glancing at Renji to see that he was receiving a glare. "C'mon, Ren-ren...don' be tha' way, okay...so I pissed Hisagi off yesterday, big deal,"

"Shut t' fuck up, Grimmjaw," Renji hissed angrily, taking a step forward, fists clenched at his sides, Ichigo frowning and walking out of the room, shutting the door and traveling over as Hichigo sighed, shaking his head. "It took me until half-way between lunch t' calm him down, you know t' bloody Hell not t' tease him wit' tha' secret stash of drugs ya got i' our room! I told ya over and over again 'bout i', listen t' m'! I don' give two shits 'bout ya and yer gang, so back t' fuck off!!"

His breathing was heavy and labored, both newcomers staring with wide eyes, fascinated by the redhead's mouth and use of language, seeing that he was glaring holes into the smug teal haired teen who's grin only increased.

"Yeah, yeah, Ren-ren," he chuckled, turning and walking off while waving, "see ya later Shiro."

The young Shirosaki frowned with a hiss, "I told 'im t' stop callin' m' tha'!"

Renji just shook his head as he turned to both of them, breathing steady once again as he shook his head again, shoving his clenched hand into his pockets, nails leaving dents in his pale skin as his reddish-brown eyes were glazed over, as though in thought.

A few seconds later, he looked at them with a smug grin. "I may not look i'...but...I'm in here for being addicted t' fightin', yeah, t'is place deals with other stuff too," he explained slowly, as though hesitant to tell his life's story to the two first years, "and Grimmjaw and I go way back, 'fore he became t' jack ass tha' he I' now. Tha' secret stash...we're wha' ya call...druggies. We sold drugs t' get some money, ya know?" Renji's eyes slowly fell down onto the ground. "Grimm's...i' here for tha' specific reason, bein' addicted t' i'. I didn' know 'till he came in. We...our friendship died out jus' last year...when he hooked up wit' Aizen."

They then began walking, Hichigo's arms crossed as he looked to the side with an uncaring expression, yet, deep inside, he pondered on how they could be so close, and only after a year, be so far apart.

"I let him get away wit' havin' drugs in t' room, though I shouldn'..." he continued in a saddened, depressed tone. "I'm s'posed t' take care of t' ones tha' come t' live in t' room wit' me."

"Ya can' expect t' take care of everyone," Hichigo blurted suddenly, looking at the redhead with narrowed golden-black eyes, "listen t' m', Renji...when I was young and had parents who actually loved m', I thought I could do anythin', nothin' could stop m'. But then when I found out tha' those fuckers left m' t' rot alone in t' world, I jus' kept on walkin'."

Ichigo blinked his auburn eyes, watching as Hichigo dropped his head, snow white bangs covering his face as he gnawed on his lower lip for a while, then released it.

"Wit' m' head held high, flippin' t' world off. I only allow t' ones I trust int' m' life. Kurosaki's m' roommate, and I'll protect him i' I freakin' have t'...as well as ya and your friends. But don' go thinkin' ya gotta take care a everyone, jus'...take care of t' people who need ya most, got it?" He slowly looked up at the third year, seeing a warm smile spread on the tattooed form's face, wrapping an arm suddenly around the albino's neck and using his opposite hand to ruffle up the protesting form's hair.

The bright haired teen on the other hand was stunned. Though it had lost points for decreased vocabulary, his bunk partner proved a vital point. _Protect the ones who need you the most...then the other few who seem like they needed the protection. _he thought with a warm smile spreading onto his features. _That was a very surprising speech, Hichigo Shirosaki._

Said teen had finally gotten away from the beaming redhead and had a stubborn look on his handsome features, which only looked like an adorable pout since his hair was badly messed up.

"Thanks, Hichigo," the red haired Abarai spoke, tone warm and welcoming, "I'll try t' remember tha'."

"Whateva," the snow white colored haired boy mumbled, his eyes half-lidded as a small smile tugged at the ends of his lips.

XXXX

Both look-a-likes stared at the figure before them as Renji shut the door to Yuroichi's office. A woman with caramel colored skin sat behind a desk with her violet hair tied back into a ponytail with braids, her white sleeveless shirt tight around her busts, a deep half-purple, half-pink skirt hugging her hips and thighs, light brown nylons, as purple high-heeled shoes left for the end of the show.

Hichigo leaned over and whispered into Ichigo's ear, "She looks like a prostitute...a hot sexy one at tha'." That comment earned him a jab in the side from Ichigo's elbow.

"You pervert," he hissed. Pulling his elbow back as the woman stood, stretching, some soft skin peeking out from below her shirt, both teen's eyes noticing that she was wearing a laced thong. "Yeah...she looks like a prostitute," he muttered as a blush adorned his features.

Her deep golden eyed gaze landed on them, a cat-like smile crossing her lightly pink painted lips, "So...you're the new bad boys here, eh?" she questioned in a strict business woman-like tone.

Both slowly nodded, lips parting to introduce themselves.

"I'm Hichigo Shirosaki..."

"I'm Ichigo Kurosaki..."


End file.
